


And they called this tragedy

by orphan_account



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, F/F, F/M, Interview with a Vampire AU, M/M, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-01 05:01:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Will had lost everything. He didn't see any point of living when he meets Hannibal. Does Hannibal change him for the better or for the worse?Hannibal has lived a long life, mostly alone. As one of the oldest vampires he has knowledge of, he is lonely. How does Will change this?Almost an Interview with a vampire Au. Chapter titles are Alesana songs. Please Enjoy even with my horrible summary.





	1. Early Mourning

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is kind of short but expect longer ones.

    Will’s life, for the most part, wasn’t a bad one. His family was very wealthy, and after his father died he found himself head of a very large plantation. He was never the healthiest of children, but his mental health seemed to be the worst part of it. Night terrors, sleepwalking (to the point that his mother would lock the door so he couldn’t leave his room), and anger issues. His parents tried to hid it as much as they could, but he wasn’t very social. Parties and things like that tended to overwhelm him and he spent most of them hiding. His mother tried to hid it, saying he was sick. People tended to think that there was something wrong with him, but as he was the only one to run the plantation after the death of his father they didn’t say much to his face. He ran the plantation well, he was a natural born leader his mother would say, but mostly he just stayed in his room. Or went fishing.  
     When Will’s mother eventually forced him into a marriage he never thought of himself as in love. Molly was a nice girl, from a respectful marriage. His mother liked her, and he didn’t want her to worry about him so he accepted the marriage. He knew his mother was worried about him being alone after her death. Taking care of the family plantation would be too much without his wife, his mother demanded that he not spend all of his time alone. Even though that’s what Will really desired. Being alone. Being left alone, to spend quiet time with his dogs. To spend his time fishing, and to let somebody else take care of the plantation and slaves. His temper was well known through the nearby town, but never towards the slaves. His wife would also never know his temper, only showing her the love and respect she deserved.  
    Molly had similar interests to him and respected his need for silence. She was a widow, her son, Walter, a little over five years old when they get married. He knew exactly what his mother was getting at with this. His mother didn’t expect him to father children but wanted him to still carry on the family name. Molly was very willing to change her son’s last name, giving him a huge future with the plantation. They very rarely shared a bed, Will’s mind usually off somewhere else than between his wife’s legs. When she eventually falls pregnant, Will is surprised. He didn’t think they had coupled enough to end up with a child.  
     Will’s mother died a few months into the pregnancy, Will finds himself hiding more in his room. Fishing more. He couldn’t stand the pitying looks that happened at the funeral and he disappears less than halfway through it. Molly finds him by the woods, staring blankly into some dark trees. She holds his hand and just lets him sit in silence. In some ways, Will loved her. He never thought himself in love. But it was hard not to love her strength, and love the way she rounded up with his child. He was almost excited about a child. He had promised Molly that her first son would still be the one to get the plantation on the day of his death. He honestly didn’t mind, because he had started to love the boy like he was his own. The weight of his mother’s death left a hard hand on his shoulder to succeed where she wanted him to.  
     After his mother’s death, he was almost quieter. Though he was honestly the happiest that he had ever been in life. The larger Molly got the freer he felt. He smiles more, taking Walter fishing. He was almost happy, feeling himself free as a person. He wasn’t plagued by nightmares. He slept with Molly in the bed, his hand on her stomach throughout the night. He was almost at peace.  
     Molly and Walter were to head to her mother’s house for the week, Will had business and would be out of town. Molly hated staying in the house without him so she would go down to her family house to relax. She had kissed him before she left, promising to be back the second he was. He had watched the carriage leave, he felt a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t think on it too long though, taking his own carriage to New Orleans to deal with his own business. The difference between his large plantation and the beautiful New Orleans made him nervous. His French wasn’t perfect, and that’s what most of the businessmen in New Orleans wanted him to speak.  
It took the news a full three days to get to him. His wife had died in the burning house of her parents. They were trying to blame the slaves, but it was was a knocked over a candle that nobody would ever know the truth of. Will’s reaction to the death of his pregnant wife and his adopted child was considered strange to the people around him. He had calmly taken the news, and spent the rest of the week in New Orleans locked in his room. He had with him four full bottles of whiskey and the silence of the stream in his head.


	2. Hand and Hand with the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the carriage ride back he could feel Hannibals eyes on him. He thought that maybe this would turn sexual. But that didn’t seem to be what Hannibal wanted from him. Will was almost too drunk to function. When the carriage stops in front of the huge mansion that he hadn’t stayed in years, he didn’t think anything of it as he follows Hannibal inside. 
> 
> Hannibal and Will meet.

     The funeral is a lonely one for Will. Everything has turned back into loneliness, but only now he had a longing for the people he had to watch be put in his family crypt. He was alone. More alone than he had ever been in his entire life. He drank himself silly and passed out on the floor. His house slaves put him in bed and took care of him but mostly they avoided him now. He was angry more than he wasn’t. He was done with life, the touch of normalcy had killed his desire to exist once it had left.  
~~~  
     Ten years later, he was still alone. The number of dogs he had on his property seems to double, and the days of the week that he was at home and sober were few and far between. His slaves were minimized, and his property was slowly being sold off. He spent most of his time alone, in a smaller house that he had built for himself down by the lake. The big house was too much for one man. He hadn’t had the heart to sell it off, but the days that he spent there were nonexistent. He knew that some of the slaves would sleep up there, and he slept in a hovel by the lake. He liked the house he lived in, he liked the isolation. Selling off most of his lands had made him wealthy but you would never guess it by looking at him.  
     When he did leave his small house, he went into New Orleans. He liked watching people even if he didn’t like talking to them. He would silently sit at the bar, wasting his money on drinks and watch the women in large dresses dance around the room. Sometimes he would rent a hotel room and take a woman or man home. Most the time he just had a carriage drive him home to drunk to stand and pass out on the floor somewhere.  
    Tonight he was slouched over a table staring directly at the bottle of whiskey that he had in front of him. The party went on around him, women flirting with the wealthiest man in the room. The men were around the room, some playing poker, some in darker corners with women in their laps. Nobody paid any attention to him, even though he was invited to his party. He was pretty sure he was anyway. He lets out a deep rumbling sigh, not wanting to go home alone but not really wanting to put in the effort of picking up one of the younger boys who was staring at him from across the room.  
    The chair across from him slide out and somebody sat down. They weren’t loud when they sat. Will tilts his head so that he can see the man’s hand in front of him. He wasn’t fond of eye contact so he didn’t keep his eyes on the hands. They were very beautiful, masculine, but obviously from a wealthy family. They looked like they had never seen a day of hard work in their lives. He decides he’s too drunk if he’s thinking so much about hands and sits up. He still didn’t make eye contact but was looking at the rest of the man now. He was beautiful, in the most devastating way. He looked just like Will pictured Lucifer. The most beautiful of God’s angels. Will could almost picture the blood of innocents on his hands. The man waited a few minutes before he said anything, letting Will look at him.  
“You don’t seem fond of eye contact. Why is that?” His voice as accented, an accent that Will couldn’t play. He was more used to French, maybe Spanish, but this was something different. The man’s eyes glowed in the light of the candles. It made Will nervous for some reason, his body reacting to a flight or fight response he didn’t understand.  
“Eyes are distracting.” He looks up at makes intense eye contact with him for a second. “You see too much, I don’t like the idea of people seeing my thoughts. They often aren’t tasty.” He breaks eye contact to look down at the man's hands. They were folded perfectly. Everything seemed to perfect about this man.  
“Nor mine. I’m Lecter, Hannibal Lecter.” He doesn’t offer up his hand, but he does offer a smile that was really just the corner of his lips were turned up. “Can I offer you a drink?” He jesters to Will’s empty glass.  
    “If you want too. But I don’t think I want your company.” Will didn’t think to deeply about if it was rude or not. He didn’t want anybody's company but his own. He was lonely, but he forced it upon himself. Hannibal gestures to the nearest waiter asking for another bottle. He also ordered food, something French that Will wasn’t completely sure he had ever had. They sit in silence until the food and wine show up Will immediately digs in, but Hannibal doesn’t touch anything. “I don’t find you that interesting.”  
Hannibal smiles, quick with his teeth showing. “You will.”  
~~~~  
    In the early morning, before the sun was even close to coming out Hannibal suggests that they head back to his house. Will is drunk enough that he accepts it. He hadn’t taken somebody back to his house in a while, usually preferring to just rent a hotel room. He wasn’t Will’s usual type, but he was beautiful, and the way that he talked moved Will’s soul. They talked about their opinions on poetry, on people, on God. He had never met somebody who fit so well with him. Or maybe that was how much wine and good food he had that night.  
    On the carriage ride back he could feel Hannibals eyes on him. He thought that maybe this would turn sexual. But that didn’t seem to be what Hannibal wanted from him. Will was almost too drunk to function. When the carriage stops in front of the huge mansion that he hadn’t stayed in years, he didn’t think anything of it as he follows Hannibal inside.  
     Hannibal walks him into the master bedroom and lays him down tucking him in. Hannibal doesn’t smell like alcohol. He smells like rain after night. Will clings to him, to the amusement of Hannibal letting out a small chuckle. Will falls asleep almost immediately. Lost to the room in the house that he no longer sleeps in. He has nightmares the whole night, but instead of the death of his wife, he sees a flash of Hannibal’s teeth at the party. Fangs to long. Bright, piercing.


	3. Fatal Optimist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you know that?” Will sips his drink, he had sunk down into his chair glaring at Hannibal. He already didn’t trust the man, but he could feel the distrust growing feeling like he was about to be extorted for something. Maybe it was the doctor thing, Will was never overfond of doctors.   
> “We have friends in common. Jack Crawford?”The head of police. Will relaxes. He liked Jack, even though they disagreed on things. He was a nice man to have in your corner. “He told me about your gift.”

Will wakes up late the next afternoon, thoroughly confused about what was happening around him. The room was brightly lit, large windows surrounded him. This was his mother’s room when she was alive, and it had long been shut by him. He didn’t understand why he was in there, before the night before comes into his head. Or he guessed, that could have been this morning with how late they stayed out.   
He felt embarrassment go through it, also a feeling that he had lost his mind. Even drunk he couldn’t imagine being led into this house again. A house he so strongly avoided. Feeling a little dizzy he gets to his feet, there was a fresh basin of water and the room looked tidy. His house slave had obviously followed him into the house. He shakes his head letting the water drip from his face and tried to figure out why he possibly allowed the man from the night before, Hannibal to walk him into the house. He shakes his head, fixing his clothes so that he looked less like he got home drunk and slept in his dead mother’s bed.   
Walking downstairs, he looks at the dark house and he finds his mind back in memories that he hasn’t thought about in years. There were white sheets over furniture. He walks through the house, feeling more like a ghost than a person.  
~~   
It took two weeks for him to see Hannibal again, he had moved back into his house. He liked to sit in the complete silence, wallowing in his loneliness. The house was dark, and everybody else was asleep when the knock on the door happened. He was alone in the house, it was a Sunday. He didn’t allow any slaves to work on Sundays, something his father had started before his passing. It wasn’t holy to allow people to work on God’s day. WIll hadn’t believed in God in years though.   
Opening the door, he is surprised to see Hannibal. He was dressed in his best clothing, or what Will thought was his best clothing. Seeing him again in the light Will could tell he was older than him, if only by a few years. He held himself like he was a king, who was walking into battle.   
“I apologize for calling on you so late Mr. Graham, but due to my practice I run strange hours.” He didn’t look very sorry, but Will steps back to let him in any way.   
“What kind of practice do you run Mr.Lecter?”He offers to take his coat, even though he himself was in night clothes. Or his version, a shirt, and underthings. He had thrown a robe around himself for modesty stake before he had come downstairs.   
“I’m a physician. I practice in New Orleans. Care for a drink?”He asks it like they were currently in his own home. Will nods, showing him to the study where his father’s whiskey was. It was abnormal for him to be in this room but no more abnormal than it was for him to be in this house.   
~~~  
Sitting in the study, they were sat across from each other. Hannibal had a drink in his hand though he did not take a sip. Will watches him, wondering what this man could want from him.   
“You’ve sold off all of the land surrounding the house haven’t you?”Hannibals voice is soft and measured. Will tenses up immediately. “But you didn’t sell the house, even though I know until recently you didn’t sleep in here.”  
“Why do you know that?” Will sips his drink, he had sunk down into his chair glaring at Hannibal. He already didn’t trust the man, but he could feel the distrust growing feeling like he was about to be extorted for something. Maybe it was the doctor thing, Will was never overfond of doctors.   
“We have friends in common. Jack Crawford?”The head of police. Will relaxes. He liked Jack, even though they disagreed on things. He was a nice man to have in your corner.   
“He told me about your gift.”  
“Jack tells everybody about my gift. He thinks it would be useful in police work. It’s just an overactive imagination. “ Will stands to pour himself another glass. Looking at Hannibal out of the corner of his eyes. “What don’t you drink? You didn’t drink the first time I saw you either. It’s unnerving.” Hannibal gives an amused face, in his subtle way.   
“I don’t drink. But it’s not polite to let somebody drink by themselves.” His voice was soothing when he says it, and Will feels himself relax the idea of him being unnerving leaves his brain immediately. Hannibal stands up, walking over to Will. “Why don’t you show me to your bedroom?” Will didn’t feel the need to say no, or demand anything out of Hannibal. He just felt the need to show him to his room. He doesn’t even sit his drink down as he walks them to the room.   
~~~   
Hannibal couldn’t place the emotion he put on the other man. He enjoyed his presence. How tense he seemed to be, even when Hannibal used his voice on him. When Hannibal was human it was just a soothing voice, something he could use to calm down the people around him. As a vampire, he could get any human to do whatever he wanted them to do. As long as it wasn’t something they wouldn’t have done by themselves. He couldn’t get somebody to kill themselves if they didn’t want to commit suicide, he couldn’t seduce somebody who didn’t want to be seduced by him. By the way, most humans look at vampires, the second one wasn’t a huge issue.   
When Jack had told him about Will. How much he wanted his help with the police, how easy Will just seemed to get into the mind of the killer. There was a theory among vampires, that any talents you had as a human were expanded upon when you became a vampire. He knew this to be true because his own sense of smell had become so much stronger. Other things came with being a vampire, no sunlight. Sadly that one was true, and everything you drank or ate became dust on the tongue. That was the worst part for Hannibal being a fine lover of food before he was turned.   
But none of the real sins of being a vampire bothered him. He believed he had a soul, he believed in God. One way or another anyway. And he believed when he died he would go to hell. That was true before he was turned. Killing people, and eating people. When the woman who had turned him, Murasaki, had seen what he did. She thought he would work out well as a vampire, and she longed for him. She already hates a mate, who Hannibal would end up looking up to as a uncle. She ended up leaving after he dies, after trying unsuccessfully to seduce Hannibal. She didn’t share his appetite for beautiful murder, though she enjoyed watching. It wasn’t the same as Hannibal. He longed for somebody who would fully understand him.   
Which brings his thoughts back to Will in front of him, the man had walked them into his bedroom and was standing still. Sometimes that happened like the human was dazed not understanding how they got from point a to point b.   
Hannibal walks forward to put his hand on the back of Will’s neck. “Be very still for me.” The bond to turn somebody was a long one. Like all relationships of birth, you don’t want to end up killing the thing you create. Like a mother and child. Hannibal has never liked this part, the exchanging of blood not liking to open himself up to this. But this will make it impossible for them to cause each other's deaths. To this day he couldn’t lay a hand against Murasaki, even though he had honestly never had the urge.   
Holding Will’s face between his hands, he kissed him first. Will reacted to this kiss after a short pause pressing his mouth harshly against his. His mouth was soft, but his teeth were sharp and he kissed like he was fighting him. Hannibal kept his mouth a little softer, accepting Will’s harsh feeling of his lips against his. Putting his fingers in his hair, he pulls Will’s head back, kissing down his neck to his pulse. Hannibal sucks on his pulse. Will softly moans his hands were on Hannibal's shoulder softly digging into them. Hannibal slowly sinks his teeth into Will’s neck.   
Will relaxes into his embrace, his fingers loosening on Hannibal's shoulders. Hannibal knew that this experience was better than an orgasm for humans. Hannibal stops himself stepping back, taking control of himself wasn’t hard for Hannibal but he has to consciously make himself stop. Will sways where he stands, Hannibal puts his hands on his hips half holding him up as he walks him back to his bed. Laying Will’s head back on the pillow, petting Will’s hair.   
“Relax Will. You are okay.” His voice was soft and soothing, sitting on the bed beside Will. He slices his wrist, holding them it up to his throat. They would have to share blood back and forth for a while, but the next time they did Will would have to come to him. The process is slow and bonding.   
As soon as he presses his wrist against Will’s mouth he attaches to it. His eyes are still closed like he was almost asleep. Hannibals’ fingers comb through his hair with his other hand, watching him with a soft expression. He pulls back, forcing Will’s mouth off of him. Standing up, tucking Will in, he leans down whispering softly to him to sleep well. Will wouldn’t remember this tomorrow, but Hannibal expected to see him the next night. By the end of the week, he would be turned, a fairy attached to Hannibal. He wonders how Will will react to being a vampire. For some reason, Hannibal could feel a type of yearning of turning Will into the vampire. He tried to convince himself it was just to exploit how powerful Will would be when he turned.


End file.
